


Divine Destiny

by GrimalkinInTheSewers



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 18:28:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9136231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrimalkinInTheSewers/pseuds/GrimalkinInTheSewers
Summary: It’s New Year’s Eve 1980. With the help of hot rum punch, an incessant amount of leftover Christmas cookies, one grumpy cat, and one unhappy bird, Albus Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel have discovered a 13th use of dragon blood. They are never going to tell anyone about it. Why? Because it’s going to be their little secret while they take over the world! And it will never be the same! Muhahaha! What is, you ask, its name? God-cocaine!This story was inspired by1. New Year’s Eve2. Meddling relatives3. Hot Punch4. A blog about everything that can possibly go wrong in fanfictionBe afraid. Be very afraid.





	

“I don’t know if this is really a good idea, Albus,” said Nick. Krakel dug his claws into his shoulder and he could just tell that he was thinking the same. Everything in the lab was a little fuzzy around the edges, and that probably contributed to his unease. Still, he was somewhat sure that they hadn’t used a punch bowl as a cauldron before, and there was a sensible reason for that. He couldn’t remember it at the moment, but there must be. Otherwise he would have done it before. He had done a lot of things before.

“You are just too timid, Nick,” Albus answered, diligently crushing the cookies with his pestle. “Great inventions require great risks!”

Fawkes watched him mournfully. The bird really liked Perenelle’s cookies. Which was peculiar, because no one else liked them. Nick loved that woman, he really did, but she could not bake for her life. Still, it was Christmas, and she felt obliged to bake, and everyone else felt obliged to eat what she had baked. Sweet tradition. They did taste a lot better with a copious amount of punch. The punch also washed away the dusty and slightly burned flavor. Part of him had always wanted to ask her what she put in them, but he hadn’t. He was too afraid.

Now Albus was stirring the cookies into the cauldron… the punch bowl… with a fire burning merrily beneath it.

Nick watched this dubiously. The punch bowl had been a present from Perenelle’s late mother, and although he had never liked it (or the mother), he thought Perenelle might be a little upset about this.

Albus poured the dragon blood over the cookies now. Nick’s curiosity made him step closer. Both he and Albus had to stumble back when a cloud of black smoke suddenly blew up in their faces.

When they had stopped coughing, they returned to the bowl to find Fawkes sitting on the edge, crying inconsolably. Krakel, spying his chance, jumped from his shoulder on top of the bird, and they both toppled into the punch bowl. Fawkes burst into flames, disappeared, and reappeared on the bookshelf. Krakel screeched, jumped out of the bowl like a cat on fire, and then ran howling around the room. Nick tried to stop him with a stunning spell, but his aim wasn’t very good. Albus finally threw himself on top of him, and Nick managed to hit both with Aguamenti. Krakel crawled out from underneath Albus, looking very, very upset, and slinked away to sulk.

“Are you alright?” asked Nick.

“Yes, yes.” Albus got up and jumped when he saw the cauldron. “Look! We’ve done it!”

Nick stepped slowly closer and felt excitement bubble up inside him. There, in the middle of the bowl, were three perfectly round, yellow, shiny drops.

“What do you think they are?” he wondered.

Albus peered down at them. “I don’t know, but they look just like lemon drops.” He took one and popped it into his mouth. “Taste like them, too! Isn’t that marvelous!”

Nick hesitantly stretched out his hand and took one, smelled it, and then put it into his mouth. “You are right!” he said, amazed. “We did it! We are, like, the greatest, awesomest wizards ever! You know, I feel we are just not challenged enough with what we have been doing so far! We could do great thinks! Amazing things! I have this feeling that we are destined for a wonderful destiny!” He stopped. Krakel and Fawkes were looking at him. He narrowed his eyes. “What?”

“You are absolutely right,” said Albus. “As a matter of fact, I think, we need to make plans. The world has become a sad, sad place. We are clearly the people to change that. But how? We need a plan. Being who we are, it will be a great plan. A fantastic plan. A tremendous plan.” His sparkling, sapphire blue orbs twinkled madly, and he sucked on another lemon drop. He rubbed his hands together, then grabbed Krakel and turned him into a white Persian with a flick of his wrist.

“First, we need a child.”

“But why?” asked Nick, a little confused. He was thinking about inspiring the masses, then taking over government, changing everything for the better. Starting with… well, he wasn’t sure yet… but the world was currently all terrible, so anything would probably do. If they couldn’t think of anything they could always just set up a board of advisors who would constantly contradict each other and then meet anyone of import privately and tell them exactly what they wanted to hear. That would be fun! “Won’t a child be a hindrance?” Also, male fertility potions were tedious to make. “Don’t you think you are a little old for that?”

Albus faltered, frowned, and then shook his head. “Not at all, my dear lad! The child is essential.” He stroked Krakel’s head, who hang limply on his arm, giving Nick a look of pure misery.

“See, we will make up a prophecy!”

“About us being destined to rule the world!”

“No! About the child! Keep up, old chap! It will say that the child has to commit suicide. But we won’t tell anyone about that. If people ask, we will just say that we want them to have a nice, undisturbed childhood. But, we will also arrange it so that the child’s parents are killed, and then put it in the care of relatives who hate it. That will make sure that the child loves us.”

Nick blinked. “I don’t know, Albus. I don’t think…”

“It is a brilliant plan!” screamed Albus, taking another lemon drop from the bowl. Nick stared at the bowl. There were still three yellow drops in the bowl. He had an ominous feeling of foreboding.

“The boy will defeat Voldemort for us, and we can reap all the glory!”

“Really?” mumbled Nick. The room seemed to sway slightly back and forth, and he wondered if they had turned it into a boat somehow.

“We must of course also send every other person who could take care of him to prison or scare them into running away. Then, we will embezzle his money, hide from him that he is the heir of all the four houses of Hogwarts, and make sure the Goblins write it all down, so that they will definitely tell him when he asks them. That will be in his fifth year, because before that we will give him loyalty potions, and bribe some girl to give him a love potion, so that he doesn’t notice that he is madly in love with his worst enemy.”

“Voldemort?” Nick asked, trying to follow Albus’ thoughts. It was difficult though, and something told him it wasn’t _just_ because Krakel’s baleful gaze kept distracting him.

“No, the other one. Can you imagine having a child with Voldemort? Blecch.”

“You never said anything about… Look, I don’t think…” Nick wasn’t really sure what exactly he didn’t think, but it had something to do with everything, really.

“Anyway, we must set him up in some dangerous, evil plot every year, so that he is trained to be the perfect weapon! And then he will kill himself. After he finds out everything and discovers his super-magic powers we have suppressed. Then he will go and join Voldemort and make the world a better place. Plus, give everyone iPods.”

“What’s an iPod?” Nick asked weakly. “That’s twenty years to fast for me, I think. Also, I feel a little queasy. Ah… I think there was something odd in that punch.” He sat down on the floor and looked up at Krakel, who looked disdainfully away.

“And then,” Albus shouted triumphantly, “I will rename my phoenix Maurizio, and we will rule the world! So mote it be!”

There was a moment of absolute silence, disrupted only by the irregular ticking of the clock on the shelf.

Suddenly, Fawkes swooped down, grabbed the bowl in his talons, and disappeared in a burst of flame.

“Nooo!” Albus cried. “My lemon drops!” He dropped Krakel, who sped away as fast as he could, and grabbed helplessly at the empty place where the bowl had just been.

Nick breathed a sigh of relief. He had really hated that bowl.


End file.
